I made it a point to get up when Doug left the house yesterday, even though it was not yet 7am & the entire house was still.
I knew if I stayed in bed, we’d have a repeat of Friday where I was in pajamas at 4pm with no shower & pretty much a sorry state of affairs.
So I got up, poured a cup of coffee & popped muffins in the oven. Straightened my hair & rubbed a dash of perfume under my jeans & light sweater. I felt silly at first – who would see me? I looked at the silk tops & pencil skirts & lined slacks hanging in my closet. I’m going to need more jeans. Will I ever wear that purple silk shift again? I’m going to need a hat & gloves that aren’t dressy. Should I just have a “shop my closet” sale? I’m going to need more Zoloft.
I typed out words & listened to the quiet, finding thankfulness in not having to commute. That bumper-to-bumper traffic was really fraying my nerves & patience. The oven dings – muffins are ready. I make a second cup of coffee & wonder if the new kitchen chairs will be delivered soon. I wonder if I should send them back, even though they were purchased with Christmas money.
An hour later, Harry stood at the top of the stairs, bleary-eyed & hugging his stuffed monkey.
& so this new journey begins, the journey with an unexpected start & no set end.



















